


Pun Intended

by oceaxe



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Bad Puns, Flirting, Gucci belt buckles, M/M, Pennies dropping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 00:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11498049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceaxe/pseuds/oceaxe
Summary: Arthur knows Eames has something up his sleeve. Except it turns out to be in his trousers.With love to Tom Hardy's PA or whoever got that amazing Gucci ensemble for him, and to anyone who voted for it online. Hurrah! (I might have an unhealthy fixation on certain parts of that ensemble)





	Pun Intended

Eames has a look on his face, one Arthur recognizes all too well. It signals impending flirtatiousness and it is a major red flag. Arthur rarely comes out of these tussles with his dignity intact, which is no doubt the main reason they occur in the first place.

But half the morning goes by with Eames failing to make any ambiguously lewd comments, give his shoulder a quick rub, or claim that he hates to see him leave but he loves to watch him go. To be fair, Eames has never said anything that hackneyed, but Arthur wouldn’t put it past him. 

It isn’t until Arthur walks into the restroom to see Eames casually lounging against the sinks that he realizes it’s been a long con. Eames has just been waiting for the right moment to spring something on him. And now he’s trapped.

The gleam in his eye as Eames sidles up to the urinal next to Arthur’s is playful, but Arthur knows the fun is only for Eames, not him. He always, but always, comes off badly when Eames flirts with him, and he knows the reason why, and that makes it all the more agonizing. 

“Want to see my trouser snake?” Eames says, and Arthur gapes. Even for Eames, no—especially for Eames—that was in poor taste. Cliched, lacking in imagination, better suited for a British low-brow comedy from the 1980’s than a roguish mind-thief of the modern era. 

“I don’t—no, thank you, that’s fine,” Arthur replies, sounding stiff and prissy, which he hates. He hates conforming to Eames’ false impression of him. It’s not fair. He deliberately avoids looking anywhere near Eames’ lower region, fixing his gaze on the subway tiles and forcing himself to think about how played out subway tiles are. Really, this hotel needs to get a better designer. 

This does not stop him from noticing how Eames shakes himself off and puts himself back to rights, then turns to face Arthur with his hand on his belt. 

_Oh god, now what,_ Arthur thinks, as he defeatedly meets Eames’ expectant gaze. Eames is grinning at him, the bastard. Then Eames’ gaze drops to his own hands at his fly and Arthur’s is magnetically drawn down along with it. 

Eames’s large hands frame… it’s huge and it’s stunning, but it’s not his cock. 

It’s a belt buckle—dear lord— it’s the Gucci snake belt buckle from this season. Arthur’s knees go weak. Now that he’s allowing himself to look, he sees that in fact, Eames’ entire ensemble is Gucci. His mouth goes dry. The delicate small-gauge brocade pattern, the cut of the waistcoat, the slim fit of the trousers. 

Trouser snake. Aha. 

Arthur’s lips twitch. The penny dropped too late, but it dropped. Thank god. He lets his gaze wander slowly back up to Eames’ face, his smile growing all the while. 

“It’s lovely, Mr. Eames. Does it have a friend?”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr at [oceaxereturns](%E2%80%9Coceaxereturns.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)!


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